


We Won

by Bowtiez



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Adorable Morgan Stark (Marvel Cinematic Universe), Angst with a Happy Ending, Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Spoilers, Awesome Pepper Potts, Depressed Peter Parker, Domestic Fluff, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Endgame Fix-It, Eventual Happy Ending, Father-Son Relationship, Fix-It, Fix-It of Sorts, Fluffy Ending, Grief/Mourning, Happy Ending, Hurt Peter Parker, Parent Pepper Potts, Parent Tony Stark, Pepper Potts Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Pepper Potts Needs a Hug, Peter Parker Has Anxiety, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Peter Parker is a Mess, Peter Parker-centric, Post-Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Precious Morgan Stark (Marvel Cinematic Universe), Precious Peter Parker, Protective May Parker (Spider-Man), Sad, Sad Peter Parker, Sad with a Happy Ending, TONY LOVES HIS KIDS, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Tony Stark Comes Back to Life, Tony Stark Feels, Tony Stark Lives, Worried May Parker (Spider-Man)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-18
Updated: 2019-08-18
Packaged: 2020-09-06 14:09:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,205
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20292745
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bowtiez/pseuds/Bowtiez
Summary: "We won."Peter was truly sick of those words, but they wouldn’t stop.We won. It supposed to be a light expression, filled with joy because they had- Thanos was dead, and the universe full again- but at what cost?Or,Peter Parker gets hit with the emotion stick (continuously) but gets the happy ending with his dad he deserves because Endgame ruined my life and I won't accept it's ending. Lots of angsty goodness with a very happy ending c:





	We Won

**Author's Note:**

> Hello!
> 
> Welcome to another angsty/fluffy fic from me! Please forgive any mistakes, as it's quite late and I should be asleep. I hope you all enjoy and thanks for checking it out!

_“We won.”_

The words resonated in his head, loud and strong; filling the silence of his brain constantly. 

_“We won, Mister Stark.”_

It had been a month, and still, still the words plagued Peter’s mind. Repeating over and over for every conscious second. He’d never thought he could get sick of the words- of any words, but he was. 

He was truly sick of those words, but they wouldn’t stop. _We won_, supposed to be light and filled with joy because they had- Thanos was dead, and the universe full again- but at what cost? Could it still be considered a win when they’d lost so many... _so many amazing people_? 

His brain replayed those words over and over. His own broken voice calling to the man with the gauntlet, his own voice falling flat to his own ears. His stunted breaths as he choked on his own spit and utter _anguish_ rang in his ears- and the soft thump as he dropped to his knees beside his mentor- his Tony- his dad. 

Mister Stark was dead. 

Another father figure gone. Another _father_ gone. 

Peter had watched, tears streaking his cheeks as the man’s eyes fluttered closed and the florescent light guarding his heart blinked out of existence. 

Pepper cried out, curling her hands into fists over his armor-plated chest as she leaned to press her head against the metal. 

Peter stared blankly, suddenly out of place. 

His only connection to everyone was dead. Mister Stark was gone. He’d met each and every one of these people gathered around through the man who’d given up everything to save the universe. 

He was nothing without Mister Stark. 

So, Peter ran. Beaten and battered, weaving his way through the collection of heroes, of everyone mourning the loss of Iron Man. 

He went unnoticed, of course, there were bigger things to worry about. 

The sight of his mentor ingrained in his head. The scaring running along the side of his face, his form hunched over and the hand armed with the gauntlet dropped like a dead weight beside his frame. 

He could hear Pepper’s cries, whether in his head, or by his super hearing he didn’t know, but the distressed sound made him want to pull his hair out. 

_We won_. 

\---- 

The invite had been sent to his and May’s apartment. He’d been happy to see his aunt May sitting on the couch when he’d managed to stumble his way into the small Queens apartment. 

She raised to her feet when the door clicked open, no doubt ready to give Peter one hell of a grounding, but the words died out easily as she took in the utterly destroyed look on her nephew’s face. 

She was quick to pull him into a hug, wrapping around him and squeezing as her own façade crumbled. 

She’d been dusted too, he could tell. 

His only remaining family shook with tears as they embraced, and Peter choked on his breath at the familiarity of the situation. He’d been here once before, but this was different. This was worse. 

_I lost the internship_. 

“I-I lost Mister Stark.” 

_But we won_. 

Nothing else had been said, but Peter’s walls crumbled down anyways. His flood gates broke and tears fell freely. May said nothing as he tucked his face into her neck and sobbed, only clutching him closely and running her fingers through his hair as he cried himself sick. 

May didn’t promise him everything would be alright. She didn’t say that things would get better with time. And he was thankful. 

He didn’t want to hear that; he wasn’t sure he would’ve been able to take someone rubbing metaphorical salt in the very fresh wound of Mister Stark’s death. 

Things didn’t feel liked they would get better, but he didn’t want someone telling him they would. 

The letter came three days after the battle against Thanos. 

Peter had refused to get up from his bed for two days, and had only eaten one of the twelve meals May brought into his room. 

“Sweetie, there’s a letter for you... it’s from Pepper,” Peter swallowed hard, eyes watering as he shimmied up enough to grab the paper being held out to him. 

Of course, she’d send an actual letter. He hadn’t touched his phone once since his return, and even if she had called the apartment, the most May would get while trying to pass him the phone would be a grunt or a sob, and neither would’ve been decent for Pepper to hear. 

The letter was short and sweet, asking how he was doing and inviting him to Mister Stark’s memorial. It was nice of her not to phrase it as a funeral, as that would’ve made him start bawling. 

The invite was open to him and May, and he could tell, just from the precise handwriting that Pepper would be heartbroken if they didn’t turn up. 

“There’s,” Peter cleared his throat, swallowing once, twice; before looking at May with glassy eyes, “There’s a memorial for Mister Stark.” 

“Oh, honey...” May reached forwards to pull him into her arms, “did you want to go?” 

_Not really_. 

But he gave a pathetic nod anyways. May pressed a kiss to his hair and he nuzzled into the embrace. 

A memorial for Tony Stark. For Iron Man. He was really gone. 

_But we won_. 

\---- 

Peter had been too far too many funerals and memorials in his life. Mom and Dad. Uncle Ben. And now, Mister Stark. 

They’d gotten dressed very early that morning, Peter in a suit he’d worn once. Mister Stark had bought it, actually. The man blackmailed him into picking a suit out so they could go to a science convention together months before the snap. Dressed up and dapper. 

He wiped his red eyes as he pulled the suit jacket up over his shoulders, frowning at the tie he didn’t know how to tie. Mister Stark was planning on teaching him. After tying it for him the first time, they’d parted with a promise of Mister Stark teaching his mentee how to do it. 

A new round of tear filled his eyes, as he tousled with the black fabric in his hands. He brushed his cheek against his shoulder as he cleared his throat, stepping into the living room where May was flattening out her black dress. 

She caught sight of her nephew and frowned, eyeing the cloth in his shaky hands. 

“Okay?” she questioned. 

“C-could you?” He held his hand out, fabric dangling from both sides of his palm. May seemed to get the message, stepping to him and taking the tie. 

She popped his collar, making quick work of tying the tie around his neck. When she was finished, her hands folded his collar back down, flattened the tie against his dress shirt and buttoned the suit jacket. She paused, hands on his shoulders before she lifted them to cradled his jaw in her hands. 

“You look handsome,” she whispered before elevating herself to her tiptoes to press a kiss to his forehead. 

May drove them to the funeral. It was a long drive; the address Pepper had given being far out from New York City. 

Their destination was a quaint little cabin, beside a lake. Quaint was putting it nicely, but it was definitely slumming it to Tony’s usual. The cabin was huge, and there wasn’t a doubt in Peter’s mind that the billionaire had _purchased_ the lake. The thought made a small smile flicker across his face, but it was quick to disappear. 

There was already a line of cars leading up the driveway and filling in along the grass. May casted a look at him before pulling onto the grass and parking the car. 

The cabin was nice. He could see Mister Stark and Pepper living there together. It was different from the Tower, and the Compound, but it wasn’t a bad different. 

May knocked on the door when they arrived, and to Peter’s surprise, a little girl pulled the door open. 

He wanted to turn and walk away- run away. He wanted to cry, and scream; maybe pick a car up and toss it. 

This child _looked_ like Mister Stark. She had his eyes, and his facial structure- just a little more feminine. 

_Mister Stark had a kid_. 

He had a kid. A real one. Mister Stark had a daughter. 

“Momma,” the little girl called, and seconds later Pepper was beside her. 

“Peter,” Pepper smiled. It was small and sad, but it was a real smile. Peter tried to return it, he did, but it didn’t happen. He felt May’s hand on his shoulder, giving him a tight squeeze as Pepper stepped forward past the child and wrapped him in a tight hug. 

It was a familiar hug. He’d always loved Pepper, and she gave the best hugs. 

“I’ve missed you so much, Sweetie,” Pepper whispered to him. Peter lifted a hand to cover his mouth and nose, attempting to contain the ugly sob bubbling up. 

He succeeded and it came out a muffled whimper. Pepper trailed her finger through his hair a couple times before pulling away and leaning over to pick up the young girl. May stepped forward to wrap an arm around his waist. 

“Morgan, this is Peter,” Pepper explained with a soft voice. “Peter, this is Tony and I’s daughter, Morgan.” 

“H-hey, Morgan,” Peter rasped, giving a small smile to the child. 

“Hi,” the girl tilted her head, returning a smile. “My daddy talked about you.” 

And Peter felt his heart swell. Tony talked about him. His daughter knew who he was. 

“He did?” Peter questioned; his voice soft as he spoke to the littlest Stark. 

“Mhm, as a bedtime story. I love Spider-Man.” Peter snorted a small laugh, covering his mouth as he reigned in his emotions. Of course, Mister Stark would go off telling the little girl bedtime storied about him. The thought of Tony animatedly telling his daughter bedtime stories of Peter’s wild adventures warmed him. 

It was then, that Pepper set her daughter down and ushered everyone into the house. 

Everyone was already there, and it seemed that Peter and May had been the last to arrive. Peter got a couple glances from some of the Avengers; Steve, Thor and Bruce- as well as some sympathetic looks from Doctor Strange, Peter Quill and Nebula. 

He swallowed down his sobs and followed behind Pepper. 

It wasn’t more than a few minutes before everyone started filing outside. There was easily fifty people there, all paying respects to the man who gave up everything for them. 

Mister Stark had given up his wife, and his daughter, to save the universe. He was a hero. 

To Peter’s surprise, he was up beside Pepper and Morgan. It was him, Pepper, Morgan, Happy, Rhodey and May all standing right on the dock, and then everyone else stood behind them, everyone silent. 

Peter could hear everything, his senses kicked up a couple notches. The wind rippling the dark water of the lake, the near silent clicks of Rhodey’s prosthetics as he shifted his weight from foot to foot. He could hear Pepper’s breathing pick up as she tried not to cry, and even the crinkle of Morgan curling her fist into Pepper’s dress, seeking support. 

It was almost too much. 

_We won, Mister Stark_. 

Peter managed to keep it together during the majority of the funeral. But he lost it when Pepper and Morgan leaned towards the water to cast the flower arrangement with the Arc Reactor in the middle out. Peter leaned into May’s side, casting his gaze downward so no one could see the tears brimming in his eyes. 

When it was time to return to the house, Peter was defeated. Emotionally, physically. Tony Stark was dead. He was gone. Tony had died, to save him- and everyone else who’d been snapped away. Another dad gone. 

Inside the house, Peter found it hard to hole himself up in a corner and wallow in sadness. People wanted to talk to him, console him. He talked with anyone who came to him, but didn’t seek anyone out. The only person he’d want to talk to right now, was the man everyone was mourning. 

Peter met everyone whom he didn’t know; he met Clint’s three children, a boy named Harley who helped Mister Stark way back- or, at least that’s what he’d gathered from when Mister Stark told him the story. 

He met the rest of the Guardians of the Galaxy, and Bucky, Scott, Sam and Wanda. Everyone seemed nice, but he really wished it was some other event that was bringing everyone else together. 

As much as the socialization was nice, Peter found himself at the dock, after sneaking away from the gathering. His senses were going into overdrive and every small noise sounded like gunshots in his ears. 

He stared down at the water, it almost completely still as the Arc Reactor floated towards the dock. 

“My daddy used to like to sit out here,” Peter almost jumped to his feet. Behind him, bouncing on her heels in a nervous manner, was Morgan. Peter wasn’t sure why his senses didn’t warn him, but Morgan wasn’t a threat. 

“It’s a nice spot,” Peter agreed quietly. He patted the spot beside him and Morgan was quick to take him up on the offer. She plopped down beside him and leaned against his arm. 

“My daddy talked about you a lot,” Morgan confessed, “said you were my big brother.” 

Peter swallowed, “that’s really great, Morgan. Your dad was an amazing guy.” 

“I know,” the girl nodded, kicking her legs over the edge of the dock. They settled into a few minutes of silence before Morgan spoke again, “Daddy figured out a way to rescue you. He said the word only mommy was allowed to say.” 

“Oh yeah?” Peter played along, “didn’t he want to save everyone?” 

“No,” the five-year-old shook her head, “mostly just you.” 

Peter took a second to let that sink in, but Morgan carried on, “uncle Steve tried’ta convinced him to go back in time to save everyone. Daddy said no though.” Morgan continued on, pausing to think her words through, “but he decided to go for you.” 

“And how do you know all this?” Peter questioned, tilting his head at the child speaking wisdom far beyond her five years. 

She shrugged slightly, staring down at her shoes, “daddy told mommy one night after I was suppose’ta to be sleepin’. He forgot the goodnight kiss though, and the monsters under the bed come out when he forgets.” 

“Why would he do that?” Peter choked on the words, his throat closing up as he fought off the tears. 

“Why not?” Morgan tilted her head at him, giving him a calculating look, “you’re my big brother, Daddy _had_ to save you.” With that, Morgan weaseled herself under his arm and rested against his side. Peter let out a shuttering breath, lifting a hand to card through her hair. 

Peter stared at the water as he tried not to cry. Morgan was his sister. Mister Stark had told her all about him. But he didn’t know Morgan had existed. But he did now, and he would protect this child like he should’ve protected her father. 

He’d grown up without his father, hell, he just lost his third. But he’d do everything in his power to make sure Morgan didn’t have to deal with what he had too. 

He owed this much to Mister Stark. 

\---- 

Peter had slowly fallen back into his routine of Spider-Manning after the third week of being home in Queens. He started going out again. He took showers again and was eating at least two meals a day. He was slowly crawling towards being okay. 

He was happy to be back in school, where he found out a solid half his class had been dusted away with him, including: Ned, MJ and Flash, so that was a relief. 

Things were almost the same. 

_We won_. 

But they weren’t. 

Everywhere he looked, were pictures of Iron Man, or worse, pictures of Mister Stark. 

They were decorating the hallways at school, they were edited into their morning announcements at school, teachers had drawings and paintings tacked onto bulletin boards in their classrooms. 

Even on patrol, it felt like ever second building had a shrine dedicated to the man, or Graphiti pictures depicting likeliness to Iron Man or Mister Stark. 

No matter how hard he tried, he simply couldn’t get away from it. From the haunting of Mister Stark’s face plastered everywhere. Mister Stark had died to save him. He’d accepted Cap’s plan to save him. 

It was hard to grieve when the person you’re grieving over is everywhere you look. When he’s all anyone can talk about. 

He had to keep swallowing his tears and his feeling, because Peter Parker didn’t know Tony Stark. 

No one believed he was Mister Stark’s intern. He’d be ridiculed for confessing his feeling, or slipping up and crying over the fact the man was gone. Why would Peter Parker who didn’t actually _know_ Iron Man be crying over his death? 

But Peter continued on. He kept being Spider-Man. He continued to protect Queens (even branching out a little because people _needed_ him). He focused all his time on school, and Spider-Manning. He pretended everything was okay. He sat on his feeling, brushing off the concern her received from May. 

And, if he needed to take a forty-minute breather on the top of a building a couple times a day while Karen coached him through breathing exercises, then so be it. 

Peter knew his vitals were a mess. His heart rate was constantly so wild Karen had just sort of started accepting it. Panic was an everyday thing and he often found himself spiraling suddenly. Little things would set him off. And then he’d be on edge for the rest of the day. His spidey-sense buzzing ever second and his brain screaming about danger that wasn’t there. 

He didn’t let it stop him though. It just made him more alert, right? 

He continued doing the only think he knew how to do. He saved people, and he was there when they needed him. He was there for them- these random strangers, but he couldn’t be for Pepper and Morgan. 

Not from lack of their trying. He’d excuse himself whenever he’d get an invite to come over for the weekend. Or, to come down and have a tea party with Morgan. 

He _couldn’t_. 

She looked too much like him. It broke his heart. When he looked at little Morgan all he saw was Tony Stark. The man’s eyes. The man’s smirk. The man’s mannerisms. She was her father, and it was the cutest and most _devastating_ thing Peter had ever seen. 

He needed to protect her. He needed to keep her safe from any threat that even tried to get to her. But he knew all too well who the threat was, and that meant keeping her away from him. He’d already unintentionally gotten her father killed; he’d be completely wrecked if anything happened to Morgan because of him. 

Mister Stark would still be here if he hadn’t met Peter. He never would’ve tried to bring everyone back. He’d still be alive. Morgan would still have her father, and Pepper her husband. 

So, he declined. He made up excuses, and blamed Spider-Man. He wished them well, and promised that _next time_, he’d be able to make it. But next time always had a next time. 

Pepper was an amazing mom, and he was sure she didn’t need him around. She should be mad at him, pissed off the Tony left to try and save _him_. He wasn’t worth it. He wasn’t _worth_ giving up his long life with his wife and little girl. 

They should hate him- but they don’t. 

It still gnawed in the back of his mind. Tony was gone. Iron Man was gone. Nothing would ever be the same. 

Peter knew he was freaking May out. He wasn’t trying to; everything was just so hard. Eating was a pain, sleeping spiked his anxiety and staying out a Spider-Man all night was slowly killing him. 

A vicious cycle of Spider-Man and school with no resolution. 

It was the least he could do to be out constantly saving others when Mister Stark had risked everything for him for a reason. Why was he so special? Why had the man chosen him? 

Peter couldn’t see why Mister Stark had made his decision. From all angles, it looked like the man was giving everything up for one kid who he had no relation to at all. 

Peter didn’t understand. He didn’t understand Mister Stark’s thoughts or morals in this instance. 

It was a mess. 

\---- 

The fifth week after the snap was when he received the call. 

He’d been out as Spider-Man. It was right after school, Friday afternoon so he had no plans except being Spider-Man (and maybe studying for that Chem exam). 

He was already onto his second mugging, when Karen informed him of a call. 

May never tried to call him on the suit, not since he’d gotten himself stabbed while taking her call. She’d felt guilty and promised to stick to calling his cell if she needed him as long as he texted her updates. 

No one but Mister Stark ever used the suit. The man simply liked to tease him, and distract him when he knew Peter wasn’t in any immediate danger. 

So, he was surprised when the call came through. 

“In coming call from Pepper Potts,” Karen announced. It was weird that it still came through as Pepper Potts. Mister Stark must never have updated it- but it would’ve been hard to, since Peter had been dusted in the suit. 

The teen thought about declining. Telling Karen to mute his communications, but there was just this weird tingle that his Spidey-sense had never done before telling him to accept the call. 

“Hey, Pepper,” Peter grinned, false and hopefully believable. He had a front with the women in his life, he had to be strong for them- even though he was crumbling. “What’s up?” 

He landed himself on a building, crouching down and waiting for the woman to speak. 

“Peter... It’s Morgan,” Pepper said quietly. Peter felt the air leave his lungs, he wobbled in his crouch before falling backwards and landing on his ass. 

“What’s wrong? Is she okay?” his questions were rushed, and he was already plotting a path to the cabin. 

“I’ll explain when you get here, Happy’s waiting for you in Midtown’s parking lot. I don’t want you swinging through the woods.” Pepper sounded worried, but there was an underlying emotion Peter couldn’t place. Her tone took a mom-ish edge to it, and Peter wasn’t going to argue with Pepper Potts that his suit would be faster. 

“I’ll be there,” Peter rushed to say, “I’m about five minutes, but I have to change back into my clothes first.” 

“Alright, I’ll see you when you get here,” Pepper hummed, ending the call. It was weird. Something was going on. 

Peter was quick to find his backpack, stripping the suit in exchange for the clothes he’d worn to school. He thankfully hadn’t lost his backpack again, so he threw it on his shoulder and rushed to meet happy. 

The car ride was slow, the man refusing to give Peter anything. He just stared ahead with an unreadable expression. Peter noted the look of concern in Happy’s eyes whenever the man would glance at him through the rear-view mirror, but thought nothing of it. 

When they finally pulled up the long drive way leading to the cabin, Peter jumped out, eyes down as he stumbled to stay up. Lack of sleep hitting him as he trekked along the gravel path. 

“Pepper, is Morga-” 

“I see how it is, you’ll call her Pepper, but I’m going to be ‘Mister Stark’ forever, huh?” 

Peter stopped abruptly. Feet shuffling as they settled beside each other. The boy refused to look up. It was... that voice... 

It couldn’t be him. It was in his head. He’d finally lost it. 

Everything froze as Peter slowly lifted his head. He found Pepper stood behind the figure who was stood on the steps leading to the deck, and then his eyes fell on a perfectly normal looking Morgan, clutched in none other than Tony Stark’s arms. 

Tony Stark. 

_Dad_. 

But it couldn’t be. Tony was dead. Peter was seen his light go out- _heard_ the man’s heart stop. 

_We won_. 

“Pete,” the man had come in with a joke, but he could hear the anguish in his voice as Peter took a step back. Then another. And another. 

To his distress, footsteps crinkled on the grass and he could almost feel the vibrations as the man stepped towards him. 

“No!” Peter gasped, terrified. It was loud and scared, his only defense against whatever the hell was happening. 

He could hear Pepper talking to him, and Morgan talking to him, Happy talking too and Mister Stark talking as well but nothing was registering in his mind. One big jumble of words; in one ear and out the other. He let out a cry of frustration as another wave of movement hit him. His hands flew to cover his ears and he squeezed his eyes shut. 

_Run!_ His mind screamed at him. _Run!_

_Run, run, run!_

So, he did. Peter turned, sprinting into the woods surrounding the lake. His feet carried him quickly, twigs cracking and leaves crunching beneath his heavy footsteps. He could still hear the faint calls of his name; voices blending together, all clearly worried. 

Peter didn’t know what to think. What was happening. 

That was... that had been Mister Stark. That was Tony Stark. The same Tony Stark that had died five weeks ago. Alive. Talking to him. Stepping towards him. 

Peter, suddenly out of breath, fell back against a tree. Bark scratched his arms as he slid down. His breaths were sharp as a panic attack overtook him. It was different not having Karen to help him through it. He wheezed, lifting a hand to his chest where his lungs burned from overexerting himself as well lack of breath from his attack. 

It felt like he couldn’t breathe. And he probably couldn’t. 

Air seemed like a foreign concept, as his head spun from lack of oxygen. 

“God, Peter, shh, I need you to breathe.” The voice again. It was Mister Stark. He didn’t open his eyes, having no motivation to do so. “Common’ Pete. I know you can. You’re okay.” 

Was he? He didn’t feel okay. None of this felt okay. He was being coached out of a panic attack by his father figure who’d died a mere five weeks ago. There was nothing okay about that. 

“No,” Peter wheezed, “n-no!” 

“Please, Buddy, you’ve gotta calm down. You’re going to pass out and I’m not sure I can carry you back,” the tone was pleading, but there was a terrified undertone. He’d heard that undertone from Tony more times then he’d like to remember. 

Peter cracked his eyes open at the man, and he was in fact kneeling in front of him. His heart warmed at the sight of Tony; alive and well. Whether it was a dream or not, it was nice to see him looking healthy after what the battle against Thanos had left him. 

“Mis’er Stark,” Peter slurred, head reeling. He took a sharp breath, reaching forwards to touch the man. 

“I’m here, Pete. It's okay, I’m here.” To Peter’s surprise, his hand flattened against the man’s chest, palm pressing to a very real heartbeat. The man was warm and very much not dead. Mister Stark wasn’t dead. 

“_Dad_,” Peter whimpered out, the name falling without him noticing. He fell forwards collapsing against the man’s chest. His cheek nuzzled against where the vibrations of his beating heart were the strongest as he sobbed. Mister Stark was okay. 

“Shh, I’ve got you. We’re both okay, Buddy.” Tony whispered as he wrapped his boy in a much-needed hug. “I promise, Pete. I swear, we’re both okay.” 

Peter cried into the embrace, weeks of bottled up emotions streaming out. Tony was crying too, mouth pressed into Peter’s hair, one hand holding the boy close and the other trying anything to calm the boy. He pressed kisses to the boy’s hair, but that only seemed to make him cry harder. 

Peter nuzzled into Tony and squirmed closer, practically crawling into the man’s lap and sobbing like a child. 

There was too much happening, and Peter couldn’t make a lick of sense of it. 

“Dad,” he cried again because it just couldn’t be real. This had to be a dream. 

“I’ve got you, Baby. It’s okay. I’m okay.” 

Peter was starting to calm down. The repetitive thumping of the man’s heart working wonders in relaxing him. His muscles relaxed and he sagged back into Tony’s arms. Peter now understood why babies were so big on this whole heart beat thing. 

Tony said nothing but calming words and quiet hums as his fingers carded through Peter’s curls. There was some hair product residue left, but his curls had long since taken over. The man was lost in his own world, running his finger through his kid’s hair- his kid. His Peter. He had him back. He could hold him, and cuddle him. 

Five years was a long time to not have his kid around. Five years... and then some. 

Neither knew how long they’d sat there, both enjoying the other’s company and comfort. Tony who had been without his son for five years, and Peter without his dad for five weeks. Different amounts of time, but the same crushing pain. 

“M-missed you,” Peter whispered into the man’s shirt. 

“Oh, Pete, I missed you too.” Tony pressed another kiss to his hair before turning his head and resting his cheek on the top of Peter’s head. 

In this moment, Peter took a moment to look at his dad. Really look at him. The scars were still there, not as prominent and terrifying, but slight discolorations on the man’s face. His arm had metal rods and wires strapped to it, from his shoulder to each of his five fingers. Scars trailed along his arm, fried heavily from the sole power of the stones, but he was alive. 

Curiosity tugged at Peter, so he trailed a careful finger along one of the metal beams on Tony’s arm. 

Tony watched, not saying anything as Peter studied his arm. 

“Does it... I mean...” 

“Does it work?” Tony questioned, reading his kid’s mind, “yes and no. I have little control over it. Most of the muscles and nerves were fried from the stones, but S.H.I.E.L.D whipped this little contraption up for me.” Tony gave a small example of the contraction on his arm flexing his wrist and then a couple of his fingers, “it’s constantly doing physical therapy and the hope’s that one day my muscles will strengthen up again and I won’t need it.” 

“Do you think it’ll...” Peter questioned once more, taking Tony’s hand into his hands and playing with a couple of his fingers. He shifted his eyes to the man and Tony had a sad look. 

“Here’s hoping,” he shrugged, and that answered Peter’s question perfectly. _No, probably not_. “But I’m alive, and that’s all that matter, right, Kiddo?” 

“Yes,” Peter whispered, wrapping his arms around Tony’s neck and burying his face in the man’s shirt. 

Tony patted Peter’s back a couple times, “let’s head back to the house, Pep’s probably worried.” 

\---- 

Later that evening, Peter sat curled into Tony’s good side. The man’s hand carded slowly through his hair, playing with strands and then carding again. Peter’s eyes fluttered closed, completely relaxed, knowing Tony was there; safe and sound and _alive_. 

Peter had watched the man interact with his daughter earlier, Morgan long since having gone to bed. She was his life, Peter could tell. She was his as well. Someone to protect. Mister Stark had been excited to introduce the two, knowing they’d already met, but needing to see it for himself. 

Peter was content in the silence of the room. Pepper had stepped into the kitchen to make some popcorn and hot chocolate for them before they started their next movie (something Peter had missed while he was in the stone). He wanted to let everything be. Accept the miracle handed to them, but he couldn’t. He was a scientist, just as much as Tony was. 

“You died,” Peter mumbled, eyes still closed, “I _heard_ your heart stop beating.” 

The hand in his hair paused, and Peter cracked his eyes open to see Mister Stark’s appalled expression. 

“Christ, Kid. You heard that?” Tony’s voice wobbled. 

Peter swallowed the lump in his throat before nodding slowly. 

Tony took a breath before continuing, “I’m not too sure what happened there myself, Kiddo.” His hand resumed its carding, “I just remember waking up in Fury’s Medbay. Zero control over my arm and in a hellova lot of pain.” he paused, then continued right after, “they gave me the good stuff, it’s all a blur after that.” 

Peter curled closer to the man, hoping it would convey his gratefulness that the man was back. 

“What about you, huh?” Tony questioned, scratching lightly at his kid’s head before resuming the carding again. “Pepper told me you’ve been having a rough time” 

“I’m fine,” Peter waved it off. It felt stupid for him to whine about his problems when Tony had come back from the dead and have practically no use of his arm. 

“Peter. That in the woods? That wasn’t fine. I’ve never seen you so worked up-” 

“In my defense, you’d just come back from the dead. Anyone would be a little shaken-” 

“And all the other times with Karen?” Peter’s jaw snapped shut. _Busted_. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.” Peter remained silent, knowing he’d only manage to dig his own grave if he opened his mouth. “And May had some interesting things to say when I called to tell her you’d be staying the weekend- well, after she threatened to kill be all over again for dying in the first place. Your aunt is scary.” 

Peter laughed through a shudder. Mister Stark didn’t have to tell him, he’d received first hand just how scary aunt May can be. 

“So, what’s eating you- or better, why aren’t _you_ eating. And sleeping. Not sleeping either?” 

“Just a lot on my mind,” Peter explained. 

“Care to share with the class?” 

“Why’d you save me?” Peter inquired. It was straight to the point, but he wasn’t in the mood for stalling and dragging things out. “Morgan told me you said not to Cap, and then you decided to go back for me, why?” 

“What do you mean why?” Tony looked confused, “I had to save you Pete.” 

“But why?” Peter continued, “you risked this. Your happy life with Pepper, and Morgan to save me? I’m not worth it, Mister Stark.” 

“Of course, you’re worth it. Who said you weren’t?” Tony looked livid, anger seeping through him, “who told you that?” 

“I told myself that,” Peter admitted, “I just don’t understand why you’d give them up for me. We’re not... I mean, like... w-we aren’t-” 

“You died, Peter. You died in my arms. Do you have any idea what that feels like? To have your child die in your arms? You were gone and I had to return to earth without you. I had to tell Pepper I’d lost you. That you were dead, and there was nothing I could do.” Tony explained, his voice watery, “I lost my son that day, Pete, and there wasn’t anything I wouldn’t do to get you back. If that meant giving up my own life so you could have yours back then I was willing to do it.” 

New tears surfaced in Peter's eyes and he was so sure he should be out of them by now, but they just kept coming. Mister Stark sniffed, rubbing his eyes with his thumb and middle finger of his good hand. 

“I love Pepper, and I love Morgan with all my heart, but I could never truly be happy knowing you were gone. That I couldn’t protect you. The family was incomplete without you and your scary aunt. I needed you back, Buddy...” 

And Peter wasn’t _bawling_ his eyes out, he was tearing up. A lot, very quickly. They both let the silence take over. It was a comforting silence and neither were compelled to break it. 

“Your face was everywhere,” Peter said into the quietness of the room, “everywhere I looked, around every corner, on every wall. It was so hard to see my dad’s face everywhere, and not be able to be upset about it. Peter Parker doesn’t know you.” Tony let out a quiet breath, smoothing down some of Peter’s curls and pressing a kiss. 

“Everything’ll work out, Buddy. I’ll make sure of it.” 

“I know, Dad.” 

_We won, Dad. _

_We finally won._

**Author's Note:**

> Hi!  
So, I hope you enjoyed this angsty fic. I wrote it all in one night because I have no life and I watched Endgame again.
> 
> Anyways! I'm part of a Tumblr Zine on- well, on Tumblr. I'm working with a group of amazing artists, and some fantastic writers. I still don't 100% know what I'm doing (or what a zine is) but I'm sure it'll be amazing. I hope some of you are interested in checking it out. I'm pretty sure there'll be a diverse selection of fluff and angst- at least from what I've seen in check ins.
> 
> You guys should check it out on Tumblr @irondadzine and I'm @boww-tiez, if you wanna talk or anything.
> 
> Thanks so much for reading! Please comment thoughts and opinions, they always make me happy to see! Remember to tap that Kudos button as well, and bookmark just for the heck of it!


End file.
